


Save The Last Dance For Me

by foundmyhome



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 5x15 rewrite, not accepting what happened, this is imo what the episode should have ended with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundmyhome/pseuds/foundmyhome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A canon divergence from 5x14 where Milah gets to move on to a better place and Killian gets to say goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save The Last Dance For Me

For a moment, it’s as if the last three hundred years never happened. One moment he’s watching Emma usher her family out of the cave and the next, with the slightest turn of his head, he’s frozen still while a burning heat scorches his heart and through his veins.

She’s every bit as beautiful as the first time he saw her. Thick raven hair pooled around her shoulders and a smile that he gladly led men into battles for, Milah’s presence fills his lungs with air that’s almost too sweet to breathe.

He feels younger with her gaze on him. He feels his hands tingling and his heart beating, even though he doesn’t have either. He forgets, for just a moment, that he’s trapped in hell with his own blood not yet dried to his skin. He forgets that he’s not a grinning, laughing, happy pirate flirting with the fairest maiden he’d ever seen, kissing her hand and defending her honor. He forgets, for just a moment, that they’re not them anymore.

Milah takes a step towards him and his lungs expel the air they were holding so quickly his stomach heaves. A sound rings in his ears and he starts when he realizes it was an agonized groan thrown from his own lips.

“Killian.” The tears he didn’t know he was choking back fall freely from his good eye, squeezing out of the mangled flesh of his swollen one. He hadn’t realized he had forgotten the gentle lilt of her voice until he heard it. He nearly fell to the ground with his internal vows to never forget again.

She takes another step, less hesitant this time. She looks determined, her nose scrunched in concentration as she makes her way towards him. Her confidence seems to falter, though, when she’s a foot away and he hasn’t made a move towards her.

He wants to move closer, wants to fling his arms around her body, to beg her forgiveness for not saving her, for not being good enough. He wants to tell her he tried, gods did he try, to be there for Bae, to avenge her, to never love again. He wants her to know that he regrets every decision that he ever made that caused her harm. He wants her to know that his love for Emma, true as it was, could never take away that he loved her, too- that he didn’t trade her place in his heart for Emma, but that they shared it, so different, but both deep.

Milah was not his True Love, but gods, did he love her.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she murmurs, the softest of smiles pulling at the corners of her lips, as she nudges his shoulder with her fist. He thinks he whimpers at the contact, but he isn’t sure. His tongue is too heavy to lift so he doesn’t try. “I’m sorry, Killian.”

His heart stops in his chest. For two, three, four full seconds, he’s positive there’s no thoughts in his mind or blood in his veins. Milah is sorry. “Don’t be,” he begs. His voice is scratchy, deep and tortured and he needs her to not be sorry. “Please, Milah.”

He can barely believe how good it feels to say her name, to call her by her name. To see her respond. To see her breathe. He can barely believe how light he feels when her fist unclasps and her fingers spread against his shoulder, moving gently over the leather jacket that contains his mangled flesh. She cocks her head and wisps of her curls fall into her face. His hook is shaking when he lifts it to brush them away.

“How did this happen?” She leans into the hook’s touch.

“A parting gift from your husband.” He swallows around the lump in his throat when her eyes well with tears. “As if your still body in my arms wasn’t enough.”

“I’m-” He doesn’t want to hear her apologize, this sweet woman who sacrificed everything for him, for freedom. He slips his hand into hers and squeezes. Both their breaths catch in their throats.

He thinks back to their days on the Jolly, right after they first left the port she had called home. The way she would raise her chin defiantly to his men even as her whole body betrayed her confidence by trembling. The way she would soften when his lips touched the crown of her head or his hands lightly pressed to the small of her back. The way she looked that night, a month in, when the moon glowed bright and close, the stars a thousand twinkling lights over the sea. It was that night, the first full moon they spent together, that she had whispered the depth of her feelings for him as he twirled her around the deck of their ship.

He remembers the way she felt in his arms as they danced, the way the words I love you tasted on his lips, and suddenly he can breathe again.

He takes a step back before quickly bowing at his waist. Her lips quirk when he raises his eyebrow, teasingly, and the giggle that expels from her mouth is the sweetest sound he’s heard in centuries.

“Wanna dance?”

As she slips her hand back into his and he feels the light pressure of her on his shoulder, he can’t help but think about his and Emma’s first dance. He remembers the nearly giddy feel that had built in his chest at giving Emma her first dance. He’s glad he’s here to give Milah her last.

“You’ve gotten good at this, Jones.” Milah laughs when he dips her, swirling her back around. The dirt of the cave crumbles a little underneath their steps, dust swirling lightly.

He pulls her closer to him, feeling a smile so wide it nearly hurts. “I’ve always been good at this, milady.”

There’s no music and his True Love and de facto family are probably within hearing distance and steps away from them are Milah’s escape to a better place where she will go alone. Where he will be left without her again.

But he can’t be sad about any of that. Milah’s beating heart and shaking breaths, after so long of mourning them, feel like music to him. He’s glad Emma is there because when Milah is gone, he is sure he’ll need her strength once more. And he wants Milah to move on. He wants her happy and he knows that Bae’s forgiveness is how she’ll get it.

But more than anything, he wants this dance. He wants to say goodbye to her the way she always deserved– the way they deserved, the way he deserved. He loved his pirate queen and he felt he might cry from relief that she would be able to hear it this time before she left.

“I’m glad you have them, Killian.” He doesn’t remember her putting her head on his shoulder, doesn’t remember wrapping his arms tightly around her in a strong embrace. They’re barely swaying now.

He drops his head to hers, nuzzling in the thick curls around her head. They smell like sea salt and coconut, but he wonders if that’s his memories playing tricks on him.

“I tried,” he sounds like he’s been crying for days. Maybe he has been. “I tried to avenge you, my Milah. I tried-”

“No,” she pulls away only slightly but panic claws at his throat and he tightens his grip. She smiles as if she understands. “I understand why you did it, why you held on so long. God only knows what I would have done. But it’s good that you’ve moved on. It’s good that you have her.”

He can’t help but smile. “Are you telling me you approve?” There’s a bit of a tease in his lilt and she throws her head back to laugh. It’s loud and it’s boisterous and it’s her. He closes his eyes as he relishes in it.

“Yes,” she answers. “I didn’t want to, mind you. And I’m not sure I understand why she was with my son,” her forehead crinkles up and Killian opens his mouth to explain but she shakes her head. “But she’s willing to climb into hell and fight Hades for you. She’s willing to die trying to protect you. To keep you safe.”

Her fingers are light against his good cheek, the pads of her fingers dragging against the scar underneath his eye, a trail of her flesh against his until her hand cups underneath his jaw. Her eyes are bright and her smile is watery, but she looks happy. Peaceful. Though the urge surprises him, for the first time in decades, his fingers itch for a pencil. He desperately wants to sketch the gentleness on her face.

When she speaks again, it’s so quiet he has to duck his head closer to hear. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be safe, my Killian.”

She throws her arms around him and he hugs her just as fiercely. “And I, you.”

Milah pulls away and takes a step backwards. It’s time and though he knows it’s for the best, his heart is plummeting to the bottom of his stomach. The smile falls from her face and, without warning, Milah looks as nervous as he’s ever seen her. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

Killian’s shoulders relax. He brushes the hair behind her shoulders and takes a step away from her. Gently, he smiles at her. “Sweetheart, I know he will.”

She grins. “I can’t wait to see him.”

Killian nods and swallows. “Better get going then.”

Milah is silent and Killian lets the moment sit. He knows it’s time, to say goodbye, to watch her leave. For something better, he reminds himself harshly.

Milah looks over his shoulder and her body stands straighter. “Take care of him.”

Killian doesn’t have to turn around to know that the family has returned. He can tell from the gasps which one was Emma’s– the lightest inhale, soft and good even in shock.

Henry’s the one who takes a step forward, planting one hand firmly on Killian’s forearm. “We will. Tell my dad I said hi.”

Milah nods, moving quickly towards them to wrap her arms around Henry and to place one last kiss against Killian’s cheek.

“I love you.” Still pressed to him, her whispered words are the ghost of the regret that has haunted him since the last time she said those words to him.

“Always.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Milah.” The ache in his chest feels heavier than it has in decades when Milah turns around, her small frame getting smaller with each step across the bridge. He doesn’t have it in him to be ashamed when his body trembles and a sob quakes its way through his throat.

Milah hesitates only briefly when she’s a step away from the blistering light and for the shortest of moments Killian entertains the thought of running after her, of begging her to stay, of going through the light with her. But then she turns back and her smile is wide and Killian is taken away by how beautiful and peaceful and whole she looks and then, she’s gone.

“Milah,” her name has been his prayer for over 300 long years; it’s been his prayer since the moment she stepped onto his ship, wringing her hands in front of her dirtied smock, politely requesting his service in taking her with him on his adventures. Her murmured name had been his peace, his mantra, his heartbeat since the first time she laid her head on his shoulder and traced the freckles on his chest while murmuring of constellations. 

Emma’s hands slip down his arm until her fingers are wrapped around his hook and Henry squeezes lightly on his arm as his hand, too, falls lower to intertwine their fingers. He thinks of Milah seeing Bae and of Milah dead on his ship and Milah dancing in his arms and Milah promising to love him forever.

Killian feels Emma’s head fall on his shoulder and sees Henry look up at him with wide eyes.

He thinks of Emma telling him she loves him and the way her smile caused a physical response in his heart and Henry’s laughter when they played dice and the joy on his face when he told him he wanted Henry to live with them when they got back to Storybrooke. He thinks about Emma and Henry and the thousands of things he wants to say to them and do for them. He thinks of Bae and Milah reconciling and he thinks of Emma in a white dress and Henry learning to drive properly. He thinks of his family and, suddenly, it doesn’t feel like such a sacrifice to live his life.

He turns to Emma, pressing his lips into the crown of her head. She smells like honey and sunshine and home and he can’t believe how much he missed her in the days they were separated. Clearing his throat, he smiles down at her. “I think it’s quite time we find a way out of here and back to our home. What do you say?”

Emma looks up at him, her surprise quickly masked by her happiness. “I’ve had enough of Underbrooke. Haven’t you, kid?”

Henry laughs and tugs at Killian’s hand to lead them back to the rest of the family. “I’m definitely ready. I haven’t even seen my room yet, you know!”

Killian can’t help but feel grateful in that moment. Though he had briefly thought the pain would take him over fully, he feels nearly weak now with the weight of his happiness. He lost the first love of his life, but the pain that had tainted her death for so many years seems softened now, by the beauty of their goodbye. He had known death and pain so intimately, but now, with Henry and Emma still clasped to his arms, he knows he’s gained so much more than he’d ever lost.


End file.
